


The Princes of the Night

by Hypnoticsymbiosis



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood Drinking, Domination, Gay Sex, Hypnotism, Leather, Leather Culture, Leather Kink, M/M, Mind Control, Multi, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Smoking, Vampire Bites, Vampire Sex, Vampire Turning, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:41:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26676835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hypnoticsymbiosis/pseuds/Hypnoticsymbiosis
Summary: Three young men are trapped in the evil scheme of a vampire.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	The Princes of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you think! 
> 
> Art for this story can be found on my Furaffinity: Hypnoticsymbiote, or by following the link here:https://www.furaffinity.net/view/38268914/

The Princes of Night

Horace

Horace had been a well off young man from a fairly wealthy family. His mother and father had provided him with a handsome sum of money that he’d invested well, earning him a fine estate with the finer things he could enjoy. 

He had a handsome appearance to go well with his mass of wealth. A strong, handsome face from his father, with emerald green eyes, and a mess of curled copper hair from his mother. He’d kept his sideburns lower, but he’d never been one for facial hair. 

His clothes were suits and vests, fine pants and boots that would last, and often, a fine leather trench coat that had suited him quite well when he visited the city. He’d grown quite attached to the fine wear of it. 

One day, he’d received a letter. Taking it from his servants hand, he read the text carefully and quietly, the handwriting drawing his attention.

Dear Horace, 

It came to my attention via a colleague of mine that you’ve become quite successful in the business of trading stocks and bonds. If you’d be so interested, i’d be humbled to have you visit my estate, and we can perhaps work a deal between ourselves for a mutual investment. I have friends in very high places, and I'm sure any gift I could provide would be of great value. Please, follow the attached instructions to find my estate, i expect to hear from you soon. Hope this finds you well, friend.

Yours Truly,  
Sir Elias

Quite a strange letter, but an opportunity nonetheless. The attached instructions detailed a way from the local town out into the countryside to a far off location. While Horace was quite aware of the danger, he had heard of this Sir Elias.

He was a very wealthy man, a very powerful man, and allegedly, a man not to be trifled with or crossed. Horace heaved a sigh and gathered himself. He would be on a trip there first thing monday morning. 

Taking the time to pack for at least three nights, Horace made sure to bring his best. Gifts as well of course. Wine, cigars, fine books that he was sure a man of his culture could enjoy, and set them all aside. His trunk was loaded safely into the car, as he carefully went over everything he could possibly need, and likely forget.

Once he’d settled everything with his housekeepers, and made sure that the home would be taken after, he set off to the home of Sir Elias.

The trip was quite long, but Horace was able to enjoy the countryside, as he made sure to follow the instructions clearly with the driver. He could not be late. He had found a small scroll of paper that listed the man's phone, managing to get in contact with him prior to leaving.

The voice of this Sir Elias was sweet and thick, a deep accent of possible romanian descent. It was almost hypnotic, and he could not stand to hang up the call with him. It pulled him in, lulled him into a sense of calm and peace. He found himself somewhat…attracted to the man. It was such a strange feeling.

Soon enough though, broken from his thought of what this man could look like, the car stopped. Before them stood a towering castle, like something out of the pictures. Tall spires of stone and rock protruded up into the sky, in defiance of God’s blue sky. Beautiful iron detailing was placed around the castle, on the spires, over the balconies, even in fine detail above the door.

Approaching the intimidating home, Horace and his chauffeur stood before the door. Hesitating, Horace reached for the iron handle, the heavy knocker fashioned into a devilish face. Slamming it down, they stepped back, and waited.

A short time after, the sound of footsteps could be heard, clacking against the marble flooring within. The door split apart, opening wide, to reveal the face behind. The face of a young man stood before them, though tall and broad shouldered, he was unfitting to Sir Elias’s voice. 

“Master Elias is expecting you, Mr. Horace.” the young man spoke, stepping back to allow them entry. “Please allow me to take your bags to your room. Please follow me sir.” The young man led the chauffeur away, lifting the large trunk and carrying it with him.

Horace stepped forward into the home, finding the place decorated with grand decor. Golds and purples, fine reds and blues, the finest furniture and sculptures he’d ever seen. It was only the entrance hall, and already he was incredibly enchanted.

Stepping down the hall, he made his way forward towards a grand staircase, the balcony above overlooking him. It was up on that platform that he saw him.

A silhouette at first, but forming into a tall, broad shouldered man. His dark brown hair, turning slightly gray at the front, was brushed back, his thick eyebrows holding a tense expression of sadism in his icy blue eyes. His mouth coiled into a smirk, warmed by the mustache and goatee he had trimmed well.

His clothing was hidden behind a dark black cloak, which he parted, revealing the dark violet vest beneath, accompanied with a grey shirt, and dark black pants. His heavy boots clacked along the stairs as he descended, approaching Horace.

Immediately he was struck with a longing. A desire to come close, to touch, to kiss and worship the godlike masculine face, the chiseled jaw, the strong muscles hidden beneath the cloak. It was inhuman, a desire built deep within the animal part of his brain longed, but Horace snapped free as the man spoke.

“Horace, I presume?” The man smiled. Surely, this was Sir Elias. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, my friend.” He took Horace’s hand into his own, shaking it. 

Horace shook back, his face contorting into a harsh smile. He had to admit he was disturbed by the feelings, but he accepted his handshake nonetheless.

Horace gulped, speaking, “Yes, it’s a pleasure to meet you as well.” Elias’s hands were cold, perhaps from the drafty castle, but he shook it off.

Elias came close, wrapping an arm around Horace’s shoulders, and leading him up the stairs and further into the castle. They passed through the threshold, down halls and through rooms, each more fancily decorated and made up than the last. It was truly a sight to behold, and something quite out of Horace's financial reach.

The secure hand on his shoulder still, Elias led him to a large dining hall, complete with a table filled with a delicious bounty of food. Meats, cheeses, fruits and vegetables dotted every inch of it, and Horace could feel his mouth watering.

Sir Elias led him to the front of the table, offering him the seat next to him. “You look famished, Horace. Please, have a seat with me and enjoy a fine meal.” He smiled warmly, as Horace was placed onto his seat.

Horace honored his offer, making a plate for himself eagerly, as various servants delivered delicious new dishes to his seat. What was odd, however, was Sir Elias’s plate remained empty, apart from him picking at what appeared to be a fairly rare piece of steak. 

The two sat for nearly an hour, speaking of their days, the trip to his home, and of their origins of wealth. Sir Elias was a gifted negotiator, offering Horace more than a few drinks. The haziness of the alcohol began to take hold of his mind. 

“Your hospitality is unmatched, Elias.” Horace spoke, his stomach full, as he sighed, staring over the food that remained, “But i couldn't eat another bite. I think we should begin to speak of business.”

Elias chuckled, fumbling with his hands, lacing his fingers together and looking to Horace, his smile turning to a smirk. “Indeed, i'm afraid i did have a rather large lunch before you arrived, i would have preferred to share the meal better with you. I’m much more a fan of the drink, however.” He stood, gathering himself, as he offered his hand to help Horace up. “Please follow me to my lounge, we’ll enjoy a drink and discuss.”

Horace, dizzy from the haze of alcohol muddying his mind, felt himself led along down the halls once again, up the stairs, through rooms, almost endlessly. He felt the strange feeling of sharpness against his skin, as Sir Elias gripped his shoulder, leading him deeper. It was like talons, tearing against his clothing, but he shook it off as a silly illusion of his drunk mind.

Finally however, he felt them stop before a large hardwood door, as it opened quietly. The room was dim, covered in dark reds and purples. Horace felt Elias settle him into a chair, as he blinked, fighting away the alcohol. 

Elias poured them both a drink, as he sat across from Horace, placing the drink in front of him. The smile he gave was warm, as he took a sip from his glass. The dark red liquid flowed between his lips, as he smiled, pleased with the taste. “Please, Horace, enjoy your drink. Relax yourself before we get to business.” His eyes stared into Horaces, beaming brightly.

“I-I couldn't, honest. If i drank anymore, i’d…” Horace wrinkled his nose, as Elias’s stare pierced him. He felt his mind reducing even further into the haze of drunkenness, as he drank deeply. The glass was soon empty, as he tasted the alcohol. It was sweet, then bitter, then...metallic? It tasted so strange, but Horace soon slid back into the chair, lost in drunkenness.

Elias smirked, standing up again and gathering their glasses. He watched Horace slip into the soft leather chair, his eyes swirled and swooped, tired and drunk out of his mind. Though, the alcohol he’d provided was much stronger than Horace would be used to, nor any human. 

Locking the door to his lounge, Elias walked behind Horace’s chair, leaning down, whispering to him. “You know, young man, i’ve always wanted to have a child of my own, a son to pass my legacy down onto. Unfortunately, due to my affliction, I've been unable to bear a sire. But, I've found a way that i could...adopt a new member into my family. I’d love you to join me, and become my prince, someone to teach, to raise anew. It’ll be painful, but soon enough, you’ll be young and handsome forever…”

Elias slid an arm around Horace, lifting him and tossing him onto the couch nearby. Gripping the young man’s clothing, the suit was torn, ripped from his body like an animal, revealing the bare underclothes beneath. Horace gripped the couch as his clothing was torn, bare against the cool leather. 

Opening a small closet, Elias changed his clothing, suiting himself up into a new uniform. The suit was a glossy, slick leather, smooth and soft, as he placed his gloves on. The tight leather pants fitted his muscular legs securely, as his boots sealed his feet securely inside. The soft suit hid the pale skin beneath, as Elias grabbed a second uniform, tossing it across the back of the couch. 

Returning to a cabinet, Elias reached into a box, retrieving two sticks from it, as he closed it tightly. He returned to the barely covered Horace, who sat up, staring at him. Sitting at the end of the couch, Elias pulled Horace up to face him. “The first step, however, is to find out your limits, and teach you how to enjoy the finer...pleasures in life.”

Elias smirked, his smile dark, as his hand slid across Horace’s thigh, who grit his teeth, the soft leather making him spring to attention. Elias slid his hand up further, under his shirt, slipping the soft gloved hand across his nipples, along his abs, and up his neck, before ripping his shirt free.

Horace remained naked, once his pants too were ripped free. Elias stared hungrily, viewing the pale flesh of Horace before him, staring at the pulsations of blood beneath the surface. He wanted to tear into him, drink every drop, but he would need to have his fun first. After all, this young man would soon be awakened as something new, something strong, something immortal. The first of many, many princes.

Elias picked up the suit from his table, wrapping the soft leather around Horace, binding him into a soft suit, the feel of the soft fabric on his skin drove him mad with a newfound lust. 

Horace looked up to Elias, as he, through some inhuman power, lit his cigar easily, the muscular frame of the body within stretching the leather tightly. The narrowed glare and evil smirk made Horace only yearn more, as he felt his mind slowly descending into a feeling of euphoria.

Gripping both thighs, the gloved hands slid their way across his legs, sliding up and down roughly, as Horace groaned, his hips buckling up, begging to be groped and stroked. Feeling his body steadily being wrapped in a leather suit, just as his partner, was a feeling of almost unearthly arousal.

Elias roughly pulled him forward, pressing his lips to the young man’s, forcing him to breath in. Horace could taste the smoke as he felt it forced into his mouth, groaning, as he blew it out. He loved it, loved every second of this. A second kiss followed by a third kiss continued their game, as Horace felt his mind and body peaking, his limit closing in.

His gloves, secured down and tight, traced Elias’s body, the masculine man stared down at him with a hypnotic glare, the once beautiful eyes replaced with a bright red, as the gloved talons descended upon him. Growling like a beast, Elias slid himself against Horace, feeling their leather creak, squeaking loudly, as Elias continued to cloud the room. The thick scent of smoke was almost too much to bare, but Horace took it with stride.

The scent was deep and masculine, forcible and hypnotic, and he would share this feeling forever if he could. Elias searched his body, gripping and groping every muscle beneath the leather, avoiding his crotch. Soon enough, he’d make his way there, but first, he would have his fun.

Taking the second cigar, Elias sat the younger man up, staring deeply into his eyes and removed his own cigar. “You will do as I say, and follow my order. We will enjoy this company, as a send off to your humanity. When you awaken from the sleep of death, you will be mine, an obedient prince of darkness, a shadow in the night…” he leaned in close, licking Horace’s neck, “A vampire…”

With a quick motion, he lit Horace’s cigar, as the young man bit down, just as Elias did. The blood spurted free into his mouth, as he gripped the young man, tasting the rich blood. It was delicious, healthy and strong. He drank and drank, finally relieving himself from the neck, sealing it with a lick.

Horace looked pale, but still continued to stroke his master’s chest. His slow methodic stroking signalled that his mind was gripped, taken and bound under his control. Carefully, Elias pressed the young man to him, kissing him as he let out a growl.

Biting down on his own cigar, Elias groaned, tasting the smoke and enjoying it. It was strong, and it flooded him with many memories of nights in the bar, luring away victims and drinking them dry. It reminded him of the gentlemans clubs he’d visited, the storys he’d heard. Most of all, he’d remembered coming of age so long ago, and sharing the moment with his own father and brothers, albeit not as sexual, it was still fond.

Horace felt the leather binding his stretch and grow, as he wriggled his body in it, muscles expanding into the once rough material now smooth, slipping across his skin, sending shivers down his spine. Groaning, Horace continued to puff on his cigar, relaxing as Elias continued to fumble with his body.

Soon, Horace bit down hard again, as he felt the hardened cock of Sir Elis probe against him. It was sheathed in a soft latex covering, as the large member slid itself around, finally finding the entrance. With some force, Elias grunted against his cigar, as his cock entered into Horace.

The feeling was euphoric, as Horace felt his mind go blank. Who cared about fancy deals, rich living, or even money at all? He wanted to stay here forever, stay with his master, his leader, his king, and be the prince that he was chosen to be.  
Soon, they were both grunting, raging against each other, as Elias’s icy cold cock slid deep into him, over and over, while the hypnotic eyes stayed locked onto Horace. 

Twitching, Horace felt his cock stretch against the codpiece, before it was wretched open. Elias’s smooth gloved hand gripped the stiff member, stroking it steadily, as the soft smooth leather slid up and down the length. Horace was in heaven, and he never wanted to escape this feeling.

Gripping the leather of the couch, Horace buckled into the glove, as he felt Elias speed himself up. The cigar all but ashes by then fell from his mouth, as he groaned loudly, a deep groan as he felt his cock go rigid, the spurt of cum rocketing high into the sky, followed by a second, third, eventually dribbling to nothing.

Elias felt released as well, in tune with the young man, freeing his load deep inside with a growl, a hungry growl. He’d had his fill of fun for now, but it was time to truly feed. 

Horace, breathing heavily, felt a sense of self for a moment, as he shook himself back to reality. His copper hair wet and dripping with sweat, his body bound and tingling from release, he stared up into the eyes of the being before him.

The figure, grinning now in the paling dark of the room, it’s eyes lit bright red like the darkest demon he could have ever dreamed of. It leaned down, closer and closer, letting out a deep growl. The breath was cold, stinging Horace’s skin.

Horace shook, and in that moment, lost the last moments of his sanity, his free will, and his life, as the vampire leapt onto him, wrapping its arms around him and biting down, drowning his screams in the dark halls of the castle.

Declan

Declan finished draining the blood of the chauffeur, cleaning his hands of the mess as he stepped back from the mossy pit. The now dead body would never be found, but the blood would do well to keep Master Elias alive for another month, at most.

Lifting the heavy containers, he made his way back to the castle from the marsh below, winding his way up the stairs into a well hidden chamber. Within, rows and rows of containers, filled with the blood of many a weary traveller or lost entrepreneur was kept. 

He’d snagged the chauffeur's old pocket watch, finding it worthy of a good bit of money when he would go to town next. Sighing, Declan also glanced at the mirror, glaring at his reflection. He’d practically become a butcher for this man, after pleading for his life months ago. 

Declan was tanned, from days clearing the castles gardens and keeping them in shape, to travelling to town for his master. Many servants never lasted too long, but Master Elias saw...potential in him.

His dark brown hair was somewhat short, combed back to keep it from slipping into his vision. His body was well toned and strong, though he stood no chance against a beast like Master Elias. Running his hand down his chest, he could feel his abs clench, as his stomach shook. He couldn't get over the sights that he had seen, the horror he was used to. 

His blue eyes stared back at him, greyed with the horror he’d been put through, his hand fumbled with his chin, stroking the stubble he’d gained. His memories went back to that day again, as he stared aimlessly down.

Fresh from the farm, Declan left his family’s farm in the hands of his brothers and sisters, in search of a new purpose in life. He dreamed of being more than a farmhand, more than some lackie that only baled hay and tolled fields. He wanted to find himself a wife, start a family, move away and accomplish something with his life.

On the road however, he became lost, just as many travellers had. He was forced to beg for shelter from the storm that had hindered his way, and soon enough, he was roped into this life. 

Master Elias cornered him, threatened him, and stared deep into his soul, controlling him, tossing the thought of leaving away. He always came back, did as he was told, not because of fear, but of respect. The master knew how to lead, how to live, how to become a truly frighteningly powerful man, and Declan desired that.

He grew to desire control, the masses begging on hand and foot for his order, and it got him off. Even though his stomach turned on the daily, he always went back with a feeling of obedience and admiration. The master had come to care for him better than others, even granting him his own room, his keys to his chamber, and his own trust. 

Standing, Declan glanced to the ticking clock, finding that time had certainly passed in his daydream, quite a bit. Quickly fixing himself a small meal, Declan gorged on what had been left from Master Elias’s feast, filling his stomach as he groaned in happiness, content with the meal. 

Pouring blood from a cask, he carried the jug of thick red fluid with him to the door, setting it down as he pushed it open. Feeling a tug on his side, Declan turned, expecting to find a mouse, or some other vermin trapped inside, but instead found nothing but a splinter from the door protruding into his clothing.

Shaking it off, he headed out the door and up the stairs, off on his way. The winding halls and rooms of the castle, while well lit and decorated with grand design, were haunting. It was as if eyes were on him at all moments.

The shadows hiding behind every piece of furniture and tapestry leered at him, the red eyes of his master always vigilant and constantly watching, waiting for a falter in his control, his grip. Declan however, remained obedient as ever. 

He followed the hall to his masters room, hidden well behind a false wall. The doorway to the room was a black wood door, emblemed with his family crest, and gold detailing. Carefully, Declan reached for his keys to unlock the door, before the door opened before him.

The pitch black room awaited him, as candles ignited themselves surrounding him. Master Elias emerged from a separate doorway, his bare body presenting itself to Declan. The scent of fresh blood hit Declans nose, as he knew what had been done.

Still though, his master would hunger. “Master, I've brought you the blood, as you requested.” Declan spoke, staring at his master with a blank look. The man swooped down upon him, standing above him, looking deeply into him.

He slipped himself into a robe, never breaking the cold glare, and spoke, “Excellent work, Declan. You’ve done well, as always.” The stiff hand patted his shoulder, as he led Declan further into the room, sitting him in a comfortable chair.

“Has the guest been disposed of, master?” Declan questioned, “ I can take him to the marsh, if you require.” Master Elias stood, laughing to himself as he slipped the robe tight, looping it into a knot. His hands fiddled with a small cabinet, removing a glass and taking it to the bottles.

He filled the glass with the thick liquid, sipping it down slowly, as Declan watched, intrigued, it was so hypnotic to watch him feed, at least, from a glass. Drinking from a human was much too messy for him to handle. It was the life, draining from their eyes as they gasped for breath that shocked him, but left him surprisingly attracted.

He’d seen the master drain many guests, as he watched. It felt like a thrill, watching their faces contort in fear as he descended upon them, gripping them by the throat, and sinking his fangs in. The pure sadism, the domination of an alpha predator made him hunger for that strength.

He felt his pants twitch at the thought, as he slipped into a daydream yet again, before being awakened by Master Elias, gripping his shoulder and leading him to stand. “Come Declan, look upon my new creation.” Declan was curious, and not opposed to following his master’s order.

Entering into the side room, he found himself presented with a variety of empty coffins, each seemed to be lined well, filled with a soft silk. He ran his hand across the lining within one, shaking at the softness. He gripped his hand tightly by his side, as he felt the image fill his mind, a naughty, dirty image, a silky night of sin between him and his master. He would take note of this thought and enjoy it later.

The final coffin was open as the others, but within lay a young man. He had been the visitor to the castle only hours ago, now pale, drained of life. His clothing had been changed, now adorned in a dark blue vest with a pale white shirt, adorned with fine buttons and a pale blue tie. His pants had been changed to dark black slacks, and his shoes, a shiny formal pair of leather. 

His face looked drained, yet handsome. The curly copper hair was tousled and laying neatly. His body had grown weaker, but as he watched, it steadily had begun to thicken. Arms and legs returning to size, cheeks regaining their color and thickness steadily, and the now undead blood flowing through his body. Still though, he had long to go before he would arise again.

Declan knew what the master had planned, only this young man seemed to be a strange option, “Why would you choose this man, Master? Wouldn't someone stronger or crueler be much more fitting?” Declan turned himself to Master Elias, who smirked, patting his head.

“Worry not, Declan, each fits a desire and wish of mine to continue my reign. In time, one fitting that ideal will come along.” The master pulled Declan back into the bedroom, dissipating the light in the coffin room. He led Declan to the bed, as he sat him down.

The room was comfortable and lavish. A large mirror overlooked a vanity, which laid beside a large wardrobe, filled with the finest clothing. With that, a desk with the finest of writing utensils and drawing supplies lay out for use, as well as a large chandelier. Three bookshelves housing hundreds of books sat in a corner, besides a small comfortable chair. 

The room contained no windows, however, sunlight being a dangerous weakness to his master. The light burned him severely, and he needn't risk it damaging him in his sleep. The thick fabric walls of the 4 poster bed did well to hide him even further, though he also kept a coffin for himself in a second adjoining room.

The soft touch of his master returned to him, as the man sat down beside him. Declan felt his heart begin to beat loudly, as he knew the master would tell. The hungry look in his eyes gave it away. “You’ve been intrigued for many nights about my plan, haven't you, Declan?” He felt the hand on his shoulder turn him to face his master.

“Yes, master, I have. I think...I believe you need a strong protector, an immortal protector, who can carry on your strength, your knowledge, your power…” Declan spoke freely, his words pouring free under the hypnosis of his master. “I want to be by your side, master, forever, an immortal bastion between you and the world.” He felt his words cracking, as he felt his mind go free.

Master Elias smiled, before standing, pacing the room in front of him. The cold slamming of feet on stone startled him, as he felt he’d spoken out of turn. The deafening silence did little to help Declan, as he watched his master close the bed’s tapestry. 

Laying back, Declan clenched his stomach with worry, but felt at ease as something began to take hold. Not an emotion, but a material, a soft vine of fabric that had risen behind him. It snaked its way around his neck, and took him back, tying him to the bed. The black silk snaked its way around his arms and legs, like a living being, coiling them up tight and securely, as the tapestry opened again. 

Master Elias sat down on a chair in front of the bed, relaxing back into it, as he laid a bottle of his blood onto the floor, a full glass in his hand. He’d also ignited a cigar, smirking around it, as his eyes glowed, puppeteering the silk fabrics. Many more seemed to join, flowing into the bed.

Soon, Declan was cocooned in them, gasping for air. “Master, please! I didn't mean to offend you! I beg you not to kill me! I seeked to only protect you, to show my devotion!” Declan croaked, as the silk slid itself under his clothing. He felt the clothes snap free, torn from him with supernatural strength. 

“Calm yourself,” Elias spoke, taking a sip, “I have no plans to kill you. Show me your devotion, Declan.” He ordered, a sadistic smile forming, as the silk flattened, coiling itself around the length of his erection, and flowing. “Show me your devotion by holding back for me, show me how long you can last…” he grinned, taking a hit from the cigar and laughing.

Declan felt his brow bend, but stayed vigilant. The soft fabric flattened further, coiling across his muscular arms, slipping up them steadily, as he growled, the softness arousing him further. His eyes narrowed as it bound both thighs within it,  
Tightening and loosening. 

He felt his manhood stretch, the large cock being teased by inhuman tactics. Still, his eyes went to his master, as he gritted his teeth. His body flexed between the muscle, the rigid abs prodding against the silk as he went. His arms soon followed, as he posed them as well, keeping his mind off the erection.

His well handled farmhand body was built for anything, as he brought both biceps up, showing his muscular form. He felt his mind weaken, as his inner thoughts came free. His eyes went dull as he spoke, putting on his show. “I want to be strong for you, master. I want to be your protector.” He spoke, “I want...I want to be like you. Strong, powerful and dominant. I want others to fear me...I want to be obeyed, to be doted on. I want them to fear my presence!”

Declan felt the silk slip faster, his cock stretching even more as he felt his hips buckle and hump forward. The impressive 9 inches showed well, the tip leaking slightly as Declan bit his lip. With a growl, he narrowed his eyes, flexing harder and taking the pain of stretching constantly to distract him.

Master Elias laughed, sipping his drink again. Soon, the young man would give in, and submit, but the words he spoke were truthful, inspiring even. He longed for a prince who shared his attitude, and he had indeed found a grand candidate. Sipping the last of his wine, Master Elias slipped onto the bed, slithering behind Declan. 

The now loose robe fell free, as he felt the hands slip onto him now, holding him steady. Before Declan could react, he felt the cock of his master enter into him from behind. It was swift and cruel, forced inside as Declan let out a gasp. The thick scent of smoke still filled the bed, as the tapestry shut. 

Declan breathed in the smoke as he continued to try and flex, but felt himself submitting, barely hanging on. Both men were bound as one between strips of silk, slithering across their bodies in a cold embrace. Declan groaned in pleasure as his master pounded into him, his cold hand coiling around his balls.

He felt the soft squeeze as his master teased him, kneading them softly as Declan began to beg. “I want to be yours, master. Please, take me.” He felt the silk slip across his nipples, sending him back against Master Elias. The soft chilled fabric became warmer, as both bodies began to writhe like a beast.

Deep inside, Master Elias began to grunt, gripping Declan around the neck with a free arm. Declan grinned, taking the punishment, as he felt his master’s cock beginning to go rigid. He squeezed tightly, as his own cock began to pour precum, oozing out.

Without a second thought, Declan and Elias groaned, letting out a conjoined moan as they released. Elias filled Declan, as Declan shot thick ropes free, splattering onto the spilling silk, taking the load off the bed, as things went still.

The cock within him slipped free, but his master was nowhere to be found. Laying back and breathing heavily, Declan felt his mind like a haze, unable to make a coherent thought. He twisted and turned on the bed, before the front tapestry split.

The figure before him stared him down, glaring. Declan held his breath, but his heartbeat told different. Leaping onto the mattress, Elias knelt down and pinned Declan to the bed. His red eyes beamed down at the prey before him, as he let out an inhuman growl. 

Declan, knowing what would soon be coming, closed his eyes, cocking his head to the side. His brushed back hair now tousled and messy, sweat pouring off his brow. “Master,” he spoke quietly, “I am yours, forever. Feed, and make me your slave forever…” Declan felt himself smile, as the red eyes glowed above him.

Within the blink of an eye, the vampire bit into him, biting down and sinking into the flesh. The heavy beats shot the blood into him as he sucked greedily. His arms bound Declan in an intense hug, as he drained the life from him, and bled life back into him. Biting his tongue, he kissed the muscular man deeply, feeding him, passing the curse into his body.

Declan felt his mind wander, his thoughts slipping away, as he faded from being, for now, in the arms of his master.

Theo

Theo slid out from beneath the cabinet, leaving his hiding spot. Rummaging around in his pocket, he pulled free a small ring of keys. He’d managed to snag them of a servant who wasn't paying attention, and quickly stayed hidden until it was late enough for the vampire to become active.

For many weeks, Theo had dug up all information he could about the bastard, and what he was capable of. His parents had gone long ago to visit for a trip, and had never returned. All the townspeople never batted an eye, but Theo had wanted vengeance. 

He knew what the man was, the old man who spoke to him revealed that the master of this castle had been a creature of the night. He had managed to escape long ago from the very same man, and begged Theo not to go, to live to see another day, but he refused.

His blonde hair was long, parted, and tied into a small ponytail in the back. His face was clean shaven, but worn, with weeks of hunger, stress, and worry dug into him. His eyes, a dull blue, stared forward at the door, as he slipped back. His gloved hand scratched at the goatee on his chin, as his angered, narrowed eyes reached for a large knife. 

He went to work, and made his way out of the door and up through the building. He had known nothing beyond the layout he could see from a distance, but the old man had led him to a man who could train him, a slayer.

Long retired, he taught Theo how to trick a vampire, how to trap them, and most importantly, how to kill. While a knife would do little to just antagonize him, he had to be careful of any servants along the way. While he didn't wish to hurt them, he couldn't risk getting caught, and their fate had long since been sealed.

The stake on his hip was well fashioned, made of the finest wood, and the slayer had made sure he was aware of the quickest way to end the vampire’s life. Stab him through the chest, and he would be no more. Every servant free, every bit of revenge within his grasp.

Theo’s eyes went to the mirror as he passed, the scar covering his cheek, claws that had dashed him as he hunted within the wood. The best prey to practice was the wild wolves, and he intended to become strong, to avenge their deaths, and return himself to who he once was, or at least, someone without the crippling desire for revenge.

It was steeped into his soul, the deep hatred for this man, for taking away the people who’d raised him, taught him, given him all they could, that were now nothing but corpses rotted away after he drank their lives down his gullet. Gritting his teeth, Theo marched up the stairs quickly.

His eyes fell upon a man, wandering slowly down the hall, almost in a stupor. He was pale, tired and weak, by the looks of him. He wandered slowly towards the end of the hall, before pausing. By the appearance of his suit, he seemed to be a servant of this Master Elias, but he long since seemed gone.

Quietly approaching, Theo slid behind him, begging him to go, but he didnt move a step. Cursing himself, Theo grit his teeth, and with one swift motion, stabbed into the servant, wrapping his arm around the man, as blood began to coat his jacket. It flowed, dirtying him, but Theo could care not. He was one step closer, and one body fewer to have to fight, if need be.

He met with the situation once more, but this time, he was careful enough to remember what he was searching for. “Your master, where does he sleep?!” His voice was hoarse, filled with bitterness and anger, as the man stared back at him, fearful.

The man spoke, opening his mouth, “The...the top floor o-of the castle.” He let out a shaky breath, as Theo withdrew the knife. Before he could relax however, the man narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to scream for help, to scream for his master, but Theo was quick to stop him.

Now, dirtied and tired, Theo approached the final floor, his breathing ragged, his body aching from the climb, but ready nonetheless for the confrontation. Eyeing the wall, his hands travelled across the brick to find a switch, just revealed enough that it caught his eye. Slipping into the crack in the now open wall, he followed down the small hall, to the door. 

His eyes, broken at what he had done to get here now, glimmered for a moment, seemingly with joy. He would end it here, and end it now. Opening the door quietly, he snuck inside, returning the keys to his pocket. The bedroom was dark, filled with beautiful furnishings, but none of this mattered to him.

Approaching the bed, his eyes went to the small side room, barely lit by a candle, as he snuck over, peering inside. 

Within, he could see the man behind it all, the beast, the inhuman monster, lowering a victim into a separate coffin. The young man was cradled in his arms, having been drained recently. His dark brown hair was brushed back carefully, as his tan face had gone paler, weakened and drained of life.

His clothing was a well fitted maroon shirt beneath a fitted black vest with golden trim. It was rolled up slightly to reveal his forearms, the muscles beneath still showing well despite his status. The pants were a dark grey, fitted over black boots. His body was larger, hulking a decent amount of muscle, but was certainly no stronger than his master. Hopefully, this new victim would not awake anytime soon.

Slipping back from the door quietly and quickly, Theo backed himself against the bed, parting the tapestry and slipping inside. The comfortable bed molded itself to his shoes as he stood, preparing for the vampire to slip back into the room. 

Quieting his breathing, Theo could feel the wetness of the bed below, staring down at the surface. Unable to see the marks, he was sure of what had happened here. His body shook with fear, tired and weak, like a dying animal, but a flame inside stayed lit, an animal ready to pounce and defend itself.

The room was quiet, as he listened to Elias step into the room. His heavy footfalls made their way steadily to the table before the bed, pouring a glass of what Theo knew to be blood. His own blood boiled at the thought, gripping the stake, he slid it free slowly. As he listened, Elias took a sip from his glass, stepping back towards the bed, and gripping the tapestry. 

Before he could reach, Theo struck, ripped the tapestry aside and pushed the man down, clattering to the floor. Theo let out a howl of rage and raised the stake, slamming it down. Not before, however, his hand was snatched up and pulled back.

“Well, well. Looks like you came to kill me, hm?” Elias whispered in Theo’s ear. He began to shake, as the color drained even further from his face. He could have passed for a member of his staff if he could see himself in a mirror. The rough hand pulled him back as a second hand gripped his chin.

Theo growled, fought, twisted and shook, trying to break free, to escape, but it was already too late. “You should have known better than to try and sneak in with your clothes soaked in blood.” He could hear the sinister tone dripping from his voice. Theo felt the hands leave his body, as he fell to his knees.

A rough hand slipped around his throat as the lights of the room lit up, revealing the face of Elias, staring back at him. His eyes were so bright, so red, so beautiful. No, he had to look away, he had to resist the urge to look into the vampire’s eyes. The cold hand was tighter and tighter, as it pulled him close. 

“Open your eyes to me, young one. I can sense your anger, I can sense your fear. You came for revenge, isn't that right? Tell me what you’ve come for.” Elias ordered, as Theo struggled harder. Finally, gasping for breath, his eyes met Elias’s.

His struggling slowed, as his body began to weaken, submitting to his vision. “My parents...you killed them...they never came back home for almost a year…” Theo spoke in harsh breaths, his eyes never leaving the vampires. “You killed them, I won't let you kill anyone else. Nobody should have to suffer like I have.” Theo felt his rage boiling up, still gripping the stake, he tried to strike the vampire. The hand was gripped tightly, the stake clattered to the floor. 

It was over, there was no defense now. No slayer could train him in that quick of a time. No matter how much training, nothing compared to this. The real fight, and he was much too green for the real battle. He could grovel, he could beg, but he would do no such thing. He’d rather go out painfully than suffer as his servants were, or worse.

Elias grinned, his teeth peeking out, as he leaned in close to Theo, “They didn't suffer, but you on the other hand…” he flinged Theo back onto the bed, as the Tapestry shut, “You’ll face something much worse. You’ll join me, and you’ll love it. You’ll hunt, feed and kill, just as I, and enjoy every moment of it.” He laughed, as the room settled, quiet. 

The Tapestry parted once again, as the darkness loomed in at him, the red eyes staring down at him. “Remove your clothes, and present yourself to me.” He ordered, his fingers tapping against the wood of the bedposts. 

Theo struggled, but submitted to the orders, scowling at the ground, as his clothing was torn free and tossed to the ground beside the bed. Soon followed his underclothes, shoes, and socks, leaving him bare.

Presenting his now extending cock, Elias looked down to it, and back to Theo. “Come and pleasure me. Pleasure your new master, your leader, your king.” He smiled darkly, as Theo crawled close. He narrowed his eyes, but placed his mouth onto the tip. 

He slid the member into his mouth, sliding it up and down, tasting the thick cold meat of the monster before him. He struggled against the desires, but he felt the sickening darkness in him grow, the desire to obey this man, as he licked the cock harder and harder.

Elias growled, pressing Theo’s head harder as he swallowed his cock deeper. The massive cock slid down deeper, as Elias spoke. “That's right, you enjoy this. You enjoy pleasuring me, obeying me, don't you?” He spoke, as Theo moaned, blowing him, humming against his cock.

Feeling the deep rage of masculinity coming closer, he wrenched the young man’s face back, and stared down at him. “You will answer me. You want to obey me, don't you? You want to submit and join me, don't you?” He spoke louder.

Theo, dazed, and still fighting as best he could, mumbled quietly. A shake from the hand holding his head clarified his mind, “Y-yes...yes, master.” He spoke, betraying his heart, his desires, for ages. The hand released him, as his head fell back onto the pillows.

Feeling the cock slip against his ass, Theo clenched himself, fearful, before the two powerful hands pinned him down, leaning in and growled. “Prepare, and let me inside. You and I will become one, and then you shall become just as me.” Theo felt the words vibrate through him, Elias’s body pressing hard against him.

Exhaling, Theo split himself, opening for his master. With a victorious growl, Theo felt himself become penetrated, as a clawed hand gripped his face, pulling him up. The cock pounded into him, as Elias spoke to him, grunting and growling, “You enjoy that, don't you? You love it, admit it.”

Contorting a smile, Theo felt his mind submit, finding comfort in his masters words. “Yes, master. I want you.” He spoke blankly, as his body was further teased. His cock began to go stiffer and stiffer, stretched and ready for release.

Elias wrapped his hand around the hard member, slipping his hand up and down to the rhythm of his humps. Theo groaned into the hand, his eyes staring back at Elias, spiraling with pleasure and euphoria.

The humping and stroking became more frequent, and more rough. Harder, faster, loud moans and growls pouring from within the tapestry, as Theo felt his mind melt. Why did he come here? Why would he ever want to leave? This man was his master, his king! He would be revered, obeyed and waited on hand and foot. He was the king, and Theo was but a prince, before the master above him.

Theo felt his cock twitching, gripped in the cold soft hand of his master, as he felt the rigid cock twitch, spurting his thick sticky load hard, splattering against his chest and his master’s. Theo felt his mind empty, as all he could feel was the wish of his master.

Reaching his peak, Elias slammed hard into Theo, the thick load shooting deep into him, as the vampire went rigid. Growling, Theo starred up into his eyes as the hand released him. Fangs bared, Elias lowered himself to Theo’s neck.

Eyes widening, Theo let out a struggling gasp, before surrendering. His body weakened, growling more tired, as the strong arms of his master bound around him tightly. Soon enough, Theo could feel his body grow tired, cold, and weak, and soon enough, he lost consciousness, joining his master.

Master Elias

The three young men sat in the lounge, relaxing into their seats as they spoke with each other. Each had grown accustomed with the castle in their few days as reawakened creatures of the night. Their newfound hunger was quickly supplied by their master, but they seeked their nourishment fresh from the source.

Horace had kept his eye out on new clients, inviting a beautiful young daughter of a wealthy lord to the castle for dinner. She accepted it easily after hearing his voice, and reading his sickeningly sweet letter. She sounded eager to come, and Horace couldn't help but growl at the thought of finally...meeting.

Delcan had scouted the nearby town for help, offering them a hefty sum for payment should they come and assist at the castle. Fresh, strong, hardworking men filled to the brim with promise and blood. He grinned, taking a sip from the cup he held and taking a puff from the cigar. Soon enough, they’d arrive, and he was eager.

Theo sat back in the chair, relaxed and calm, as a hand placed itself on his shoulder. Master Elias had entered the room, approaching the young men with news. Theo felt his body shake, the mere touch of his master sent a spark though his body. He had taught him so much in the few days of undead life, and every word led him closer to the man.

“Everyone, I'm sure you’ve heard of our new clients from out of town, large financial backers for our..cause. Well, they’ve invited a group of wealthy individuals to come meet with us over dinner tonight.” He strolled in front of them, relaxing into a leather armchair, pouring himself s glass. “I’m sure you’ll all be in attendance?”

Declan leaned forward, smirking, his fang prodding free from his lip, “Without a doubt, master. I’ve been dying to feed fresh from the source. You’ll teach me how to hypnotize them, right?” His eyes were bright with a begging interest. His stomach begging to be filled with the warm sustenance of blood. Both he and his stomach growled like wild animals, his attitude fueling their outburst.

“I'm Interested in trying to hypnotize them as well, Master. It would be very useful if we ever find ourselves out of this castle.” Horace spoke, leaning back with a smile, his once emerald green eyes now blood red, just as his master.

Theo was quiet, feeling his hand go to his neck. The collar of his gray shirt scratched at the bite wound still on his neck. His leather coat was still open, but he closed it, standing tall and buttoning it up. His dark brown pants were worn, and the boots shined brightly in the candlelight. 

His hair was as it had been, dark blonde, parted to the side with a small ponytail. His skin had become a sickly pale tone, but he couldn't hide his euphoria. He wanted to feed, to drink as soon as possible, and join his master as a true immortal. “May I greet them, master?” He asked, grinning.

His smile held malice, a desire to feed, to do as he had been told and learn to feed on his own. He would follow in his master's footsteps, and learn the hypnosis technique however, that was the priority. 

“In due time, you may invite them inside, Theodore.” He patted the young man's shoulder, before beckoning the three with him. “We shall all invite them inside. You are my proteges after all, it would be unkind to not allow you to take charge this time.” He smiled.

His eyes glowed, as the three young princes' eyes matched their king, glowing brightly as the others came to stand. “For now though, look into my eyes, and watch. Look into them, my vampire princes, and become mine, forever and always…”

All three came closer standing before their master, who spread his cloak, and shrouded them, lost into the darkness of their new undead life, bound by his word and his power, for all time…


End file.
